Queen of This Realm - Plaidy Jean. Страница 34

“Your Majesty, I know full well that people have poisoned your mind against me, but I assure you, with all my heart, that I am your most loyal and faithful subject.”

“I understand that you will not go to Mass.”

“I was not brought up to go to Mass, Your Majesty. As our brother was not either.”

“That was sad for England and has done untold harm,” said my sister. “However we shall right that as best we can. You will not willingly accept the true faith and I tremble for you when the time comes to face your Maker.”

I was silent.

She went on: “But you are young and unwise, so I have a husband for you. There are some about me who tell me that while you are in England you will cast envious eyes on my throne.”

“Your Majesty has been misinformed.”

“That is as may be. But you are, I sense, impatient for the throne. It will never be yours, sister. I shall shortly marry a great ruler and our son will be the next King of England. There is no place for you here. That is why I am offering you Philibert of Savoy, the Prince of Piedmont. He is agreeable to the match and you can have a happy life with him.”

I was cold with horror. Go to Piedmont! Leave England! That would be to say goodbye to the throne forever. No! I would never do that. I would rather stay here where I was in perpetual danger. In that moment I realized how desperately I wanted the crown. There was something within me which told me it was my right, that it was my destiny. I was meant to be Queen of England and I must never agree to anything that would divert me from that purpose. I struggled for composure…

My sister was regarding me coldly.

“You do not seem overcome with joy, sister,” she said. “You have not yet understood your good fortune. Philibert is a great Prince. Oh, I know you are a Princess, but a bastard Princess and known to be such now that it is acclaimed that our father was not truly married to your mother since his marriage to mine was valid.”

I wanted to shout at her, to tell her that it was not long ago that we were both declared bastards. I did not care if I was. I only knew that I was the King's daughter and that I was meant to be a queen.

“Your Majesty,” I said, choosing my words very carefully, “I have no desire for the married state.”

“You are being foolish,” she said testily.

“It is true, Your Majesty, that the thought of marriage sickens me. It is something in me which is not as others of my sex. I was born in the Chamber of Virgins under the sign of Virgo. Your Majesty, I beg you to understand that I cannot marry… that I would rather face anything than that.”

“You are stubborn. I have no wish to force you into marriage, but I tell you this: It is a matter of marriage or captivity. You may choose which.”

I was silent for a few moments, grappling with myself. But I knew what I had to say. It was my destiny. If I left England now, I should never attain the crown.

Then I said slowly: “I must then continue to be a prisoner who faces captivity without knowledge of the fault which has placed me in restraint.”

She was impatient with me. She had been hoping to get me married and out of the country and out of her conscience.

But I was too wise for that.

I HEARD THAT I was to go to Woodstock, where I should be in the care of that same Sir Henry Bedingfeld. The servants who had so far accompanied me were to be dismissed. I said my farewells to them and wept bitterly.

“Pray for me,” I said, “for I think I am to die soon.”

They knew that I meant that when royal persons were sent away to remote country castles they were either left to be forgotten or removed; and since in my case I was an undoubted threat to the Queen, it seemed obvious what fate was intended for me.

I was so certain that I was being taken to my death that I had come to a point where I accepted my fate. I was overcome by melancholy because somewhere in the recesses of my mind had been the certain feeling that one day I should be Queen. Now it seemed I had deluded myself. Death seemed inevitable.

My attendants must have felt the same for many of them wept openly and some were so blinded by their tears that they could not serve me. I admonished them gently but their love for me was a great comfort.

One of my ushers went to Lord Tame, a gentleman of the Court, and demanded to know whether I was in danger that night and if there was a plot to kill me before I left Richmond or if it had been decided to do the deed elsewhere, at which Lord Tame cried out in anger: “Marry, God forbid that any should consider such vileness. If it were intended, I and my men would die defending her.”

The good man came to tell me what Lord Tame had said. “I am sure he spoke in earnest, Your Grace,” he said. “Whatever evil there is abroad, there is good too, and you will have many to protect you besides the members of your household.”

Such incidents are great balm when one is in dire need of comfort.

The next day we started on our journey to Woodstock, and once again my spirits were lifted for as we rode into the country people came out to see me pass. The manner in which they ran to me was very touching. I saw their good wishes and affection in their eyes. “God bless the Princess!” they cried with such emotion that Bedingfeld was most displeased. He believed, and rightly I was sure, that a “God bless” for me meant a curse on the Queen.

In one village we passed through, the bells started to ring and when Bedingfeld asked what was the occasion for it, he was told: “It is for rejoicing that our Princess is no longer in the Tower.”

He raged against them. They talked like traitors, he said. They had no right to sing the praises of one who so recently had been suspected of treachery and was not yet wholly proved innocent.

The bell-ringing was stopped. I think they were all terrified that they might be accused of treason.

In due course we came to Ricote in Oxfordshire and stayed at the mansion of Lord Williams of Tame, who came out to greet me with an air of great deference and said that his lady was giving orders in the kitchens and the best apartment had been prepared for me. He added that he was deeply honored because I, the Princess Elizabeth, daughter of great Harry, was to stay under his roof.

He made me feel that I was not a prisoner and I blessed him for that. He sat me in the place of honor in his great hall and I was royally served; he had even arranged an entertainment to divert me which grew very merry until the miserable Bedingfeld complained. It was not meet and fitting, he said, that such treatment should be shown to the Queen's prisoner.

Lord Williams looked stunned. He said he was merely entertaining the Princess Elizabeth in a manner such as his purse and humble house would allow him. He believed it must seem very poor in the eyes of royalty, but he trusted I would understand that it was the best he could do.

“My dear lord,” I said gently, flashing a look of hatred at Bedingfeld, “there are some whose pleasure it is to humiliate me. You have cheered me mightily by giving me this wonderful welcome.”

Lord Williams was pleased but I could see that Bedingfeld was angry. I hoped he would not report Lord Williams to the Council. But perhaps he would not. I grudgingly admitted to myself that he was a just man and only acted in accordance with what he believed to be right.

We left Ricote in the morning and in due course arrived at Woodstock.

Woodstock! How dreary it was! I had been as well off in the Tower. There were soldiers to guard me day and night. They paraded round the walls at night and every door and gateway was supplied with locks. I could not move without being spied on. I was never alone in the gardens. Everywhere I looked there were guards watching me. They must have been very much afraid that I would escape.